


A Cowboy in a Santa Hat

by ivdripwithfluffinit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, mccree tries so hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivdripwithfluffinit/pseuds/ivdripwithfluffinit
Summary: A very McHanzo Christmas to all!90% fluff with a small side of Blackwatch / Shimada angst. Enjoy!Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada have both spent so many Christmases alone. But this is the first Christmas where they'll never be alone again.





	A Cowboy in a Santa Hat

Jesse opened his fourth musty box of old Christmas decorations. Taking a deep breath against the puff of dust, he smiled as he felt around the bottom.  
“I found ‘em!”  
He triumphantly held the bundle of Santa hats up. Cheers greeted them. Lena blinked over and snatched a green one.  
“‘Ow do I look?” She laughed when the bell on the end jingled.  
“Like a right little elf. Genji!” McCree tossed another hat towards the cyborg, who was sorting ornaments cross-legged on the floor. Quickly he juggled the glass spheres and caught the hat, panicked.  
“McCree! You almost made me drop them!”  
“Good thing ya got reflexes like a cat.”  
There were eight left bundled into the cowboy’s hand. Angela caught her winged hat with a chiming laugh; Winston gruffly caught his yellow one. Reinhardt’s lion-faced hat slipped through his massive fingers, and Jesse even managed to hit Torbjörn in the head with his. But his smile faltered when he saw the last ones, in black, blue, and stars and stripes, scrunched between his fingers.  
No one noticed except for Hanzo, who was silently watching from the floor at Jesse’s feet. The gunslinger’s mouth twisted for a brief second, then threw the three back into the box. He took a deep breath and perched the final one, one with a hideous knitted pattern, on his regular hat. Hanzo held back a snort from the ridiculous sight.  
McCree sat back down beside Hanzo, smile growing from nothing. He glanced over the neat piles of ornaments.  
“We’re gonna hafta getcha a hat made, darlin’.” He tilted his head so the puff on the end drooped towards Hanzo. Closer up, the archer realized it was a pattern of revolvers and tumbleweeds.  
With a glance back at the ridiculous cap, Hanzo looked uncertain.  
“Please. It is no trouble. I do not need a hat to help me enjoy Christmas.” McCree laid a hand dramatically across his forehead.  
“Honey, it’s a tradition. Everyone’s gotta have one.”  
“It would make me look foolish.” Hanzo tried to go back to laying out the baubles, but the puff on the end of the hat danced in the corner of his vision.  
His partner raised his eyebrows. “Athena?”  
“Yes, Agent McCree?”  
“Can you synthesize some hats for our fellow compadres?”  
“Result affirmative.” He grinned.  
“Can ya do a, uh…” McCree cast an appraising look over Hanzo.  
“Actually, Athena, later.”  
“Glad to be of help. Merry Christmas.”  
Hanzo managed a weak smile. “What are you planning?”  
“A surprise.” McCree leaned over and folded him into a hug. Hanzo was planning on enjoying it until the puffball bounced against his nose. Frustrated, he tried to blow it away from his face, but it just fell back.  
“You cannot wear this thing all the time.”  
McCree laughed and shook his head back and forth to make it jump in front of Hanzo’s eyes. The archer batted it away with a sigh and pulled the hat off of McCree’s regular one.  
Jesse pulled back, surprised, his hat at a tilt from the movement. Hanzo fixed the ugly lump of fabric on his own head.  
“I will wear it instead.” It was worth it to make McCree beam.  
“Where are these hats from, anyway?”  
McCree scratched his neck. “Ages ago. We would have Overwatch Christmas parties before we all went home, if we had one. They invited Blackwatch to come along. Me an’ Reyes naturally came, season ta be jolly n’ all, but Genji needed more convincin’. Ah-” He paused.  
“You sure ya wanna hear about Genji in Blackwatch, darlin'?”  
Hanzo put on a light smile. “It is fine.” Jesse looked unsure. “Okay, then.”  
“Amari finally made ‘im come.” He relented. “He was just standin’ in the corner, glowerin’ until someone offered him some gingerbread cookies. I think he wished ‘e was back with Moira. Apparently, they’d agreed to an anime marathon.”  
Hanzo felt a pang of guilt.  
“Did he ever participate in the festivities?”  
“Actually, it was the one time ‘a year he opened up.” McCree paused to think. “Gingerbread was ‘is favorite. He also didn’t mind the wine.”  
Hanzo was confused. “But wouldn’t he have to take off his mask to eat?”  
“Yeah, but we all sorta looked away when ‘e did. None of us really minded. Just real shy.” Jesse glanced towards Genji. “I wonder if ‘e still likes those cookies.”  
“I know why he likes them.”  
McCree turned, surprised, towards Hanzo. The archer’s eyes were touched at the corners with sadness. Concerned, he picked up Hanzo’s hand. It was cold to the touch.  
“In Hanamura he would go to Christmas parties and come back with gingerbread crumbs in his hair.” He almost smiled at the thought. Almost.  
“Aw, honey. ‘S not your fault.”  
“But it is.” He felt McCree squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back.  
“I reckon you’ll make up for it, this year.”  
“How?”  
“With th’ combination a’ Zen, you, and Overwatch, I reckon he’s gonna ‘ave his best Christmas yet.”  
Hanzo smiled slightly. Jesse rubbed his thumb across the archer’s cold fingers.  
“‘An I hope ta’ make this your best Christmas yet.” Hanzo felt a happy blush spread across his face. McCree laughed and kissed him on the cheek.  
When the cowboy turned back to untangling tinsel, Hanzo let a small grin play across his features. “Just having you here has already done that.” He muttered under his breath. 

Genji was still gasping for breath from laughter about Hanzo wearing McCree’s hat, all the way across the storage room. “Dude, calm down,” said Lúcio, starting the next Christmas song. “But the-“ He cracked up again. “Oh my god.” He wheezed.  
“Hanzo’s hat is quite amusing,” agreed Zenyatta, bundling up streamers.  
“But it would seem that the rest of us are lacking in holiday spirit. Would it be possible to have hats made for all of the new members?” the monk asked, pointedly looking towards Genji’s dark red one.  
“This hat is from my Blackwatch days.” He stifled his laughter and laced his fingers into the omnic’s. “We should get new ones for you guys. Just- McCree was always so silly at the Christmas party. It’s ridiculous for that hat to be on Hanzo.”  
“I wouldn’t mind some Christmas stuff, either.” Smiled Lúcio. He twisted around and shouted towards the girl in pink moving boxes from the closet. “Hana, you up for some Christmas swag?” She nearly dropped the box she was holding.  
“Yes!” She yelled back. “I can do a holiday merch drop! That’s amazing!”  
“A Christmas hat would be great!” Squealed Mei. She was sitting in a make-do beanbag, programming Snowball to make fake snow.  
“It is decided then.” Said the omnic, turning to tap commands onto Athena’s nearby screen.  
“Can I help ya with that?” Genji turned around to see McCree standing, a little awkwardly, behind him.  
“I had an idea for Hanzo’s hat, but it’s… gonna be a surprise.”  
“Sure,” Genji said. “Can you send me the design?” Jesse visibly brightened.  
“That’d be peachy. Thanks, Genjo.” The cyborg punched him in the leg as he left, making the cowboy stumble. 

The team ended up sorting Christmas stuff long after dinner. Finally, Brigitte managed to drag Torbjörn and Reinhardt away, warning about being under-rested at their age, and everyone followed. Genji flicked Hanzo's hat as he walked past, yawning. “Don't stay up too late, kids.”  
“I’m worn slap out,” said McCree when the two were finally alone in the hall.  
“That is okay. I can stay here and finish up.”  
“You sure?”  
“I am sure. I cannot let our hard work go to waste.”  
Jesse thought that was a terrible excuse, seeing as he hadn’t done much work at all and Hanzo's pile was as neat as Sunday clothes.  
“Alrighty then…” McCree kissed under the brim of Hanzo’s hat and stood up.  
Hanzo watched him shut the door. Shoving his box aside, he rummaged through McCree's until he found the fuzzy tangle at the bottom. He brought them into the dim light.  
The three hats all had faded Sharpie names inside. ‘Gabe’, ‘Jack’, and ‘Ana’. Looking at them now, Hanzo could see why Jesse would feel a shadow fall. The days of complete Overwatch Christmases were over. Sighing, the archer pushed the hats as far down into the box as he could. Maybe one day they would all be ready to throw those hats away. But for now, best to abandon them for another Christmas.  
McCree was already in bed when Hanzo opened the door. The cowboy blinked at the light from the hallway. “Yer back.”  
“I did not take long.” Hanzo went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and found the water chilly to the touch. He was shivering slightly by the time he came back and tried to remove his prosthetics as fast as he could. McCree touched his arm.  
“Honey, ya' got goosebumps.” Hanzo pressed his lips together. and finished removing the metal legs.  
“C’mere.” The archer rolled into bed with an involuntary sigh, welcoming Jesse’s arms around him. The bed was already so warm. Hanzo snuggled closer.  
Jesse hummed happily. “Gotta stay warm in winter.”  
“Indeed.” Jesse’s heat pressing and darkness closing in, Hanzo succumbed to hibernation. 

The heir didn’t have time for some silly western holiday. Genji was a fool to let it distract him. Hanzo narrowed his eyes at the laptop screen, detailing some smaller gang’s weapons shipment. So why did it bother him so much?  
Suddenly the sound of a lock clicking sent him into high alert. Eyes racing around the room for the source, Hanzo grabbed a letter opener from the desk. He slowly thumbed the hidden button made for releasing a small dose of poison. Every room in the Shimada castle had some hidden poison, blade or trap. They were there for a reason.  
The window to his right clattered and scraped. Obviously, the intruder was having trouble. Hanzo gripped the knife tighter.  
Suddenly the trespasser tumbled into the room, rolling over the chest of drawers and landing on his back with a thump. A look of disgust came over the older brother’s face. He threw the letter opener back onto the desk. The smell of alcohol came to his nose.  
“Genji.”  
The intruder tried to raise his head but failed with a thump.  
“Yo.”  
Hanzo’s sneer deepened. His brother’s right arm was wrapped with tinsel, his belt and headband were missing, and his green hair was littered with crumbs. He crouched down to help Genji up. Gingerbread crumbs, by the smell.  
“Get up.”  
“Hanzooooooo.” Genji cried as his older brother half dragged him through the castle. “Where were you at Christmas? Doing work?”  
“I was doing my duty,” said Hanzo through gritted teeth.  
“Can your duty be giving me a lift next time? I had to Uber here.” Genji whined.  
“Get cleaned up,” Hanzo growled, shoving his little brother into his room. “Hanzoo-“ The sliding door shut, cutting him off. Closed, the door revealed a thick layer of ‘Keep Out’ signs, band logos and photos of the sparrow and his friends taped and stuck on through the years.  
The young master practically stormed back to his workstation. What was Genji doing? There was no point in Christmas. Just another vacation for the guards, and, at best, an excuse to have a drink.  
Christmas would never be pleasant. More work, more slacking off, and more of whatever twinge in his stomach was making him slightly jealous. 

Morning came like a searchlight. Hanzo woke up to light creeping around the curtains, and McCree’s light snoring. He deftly wiggled out of the gunslinger’s embrace (without waking him up, like he always did) but immediately regretted it. Cool has snuck in overnight, and now the bed was a sanctuary of heat.  
Hanzo gritted his teeth and tried to rub his goosebumps away. He needed some hot tea, now. He silently searched through his clothes drawer for something suitable. Slipping his shivering legs into some not-nearly-thick-enough jeans, he almost left in a t-shirt. Thinking better of it, he grabbed Jesse’s serape and suppressed a silly grin as he bundled himself in it.  
The red wrap was worn to softness and smelled like Jesse and smoke and gunpowder. With a last look at McCree, Hanzo slid open the door and headed towards the kitchen.


End file.
